


Unguarded

by Empy (Empyreus)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Denial, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Pre-Bofa, Pre-Slash, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 22:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2523293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empyreus/pseuds/Empy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin had called the Hobbit gentlefolk, and Bilbo does look the part, fussily dressed and tender-footed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unguarded

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moon01234](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon01234/gifts).



> Many thanks to the lovely Galadriel for cheerleading. ♥

His watch is ending, an uneventful stretch of night with only the hooting of owls to keep him alert. Dori's turn next, he reminds himself as he picks his way among the sleepers, stopping by the small fire they have risked making to see if it needs feeding. They are skirting the true wild now, but it is but the beginning of a very long journey. 

Bilbo sleeps closest to the fire, head perilously close to Fili's feet. He lies very still, hands folded close to his chest and his face in shadow as the fire warms his back.

He stoops over the Hobbit at first, then crouches down. The Halfling is such a light sleeper that it seems he has ceased to breathe entirely, unlike the rest of the Company, who snore and mutter.

So slight. So silent. More like a grocer than a burglar indeed. Tender like a sapling instead of tough with the wiriness and wiliness that a thief needs. None of the quick little tics Nori displays. None of the brute strength they will need each ounce of. And yet there is something there, something he does not want to grasp at to examine it closer. It is a will-o-the-wisp, an irrelevant distraction he is none too pleased to have to deal with.

 

He remembers walking through the Shire, past round windows lit with lanterns and candles, and remembers walking past them again, disoriented by the similarity. Such a somnolent place, hardly the home of a burglar. He had expected something more sinister. Not a home set into the side of a sloping hill, not the softly-lit parlour of a diminutive and timid Halfling. He questioned Gandalf's judgement in that moment, sparing the wizard a questioning glance while he completed his slow round of appraisal.

The crackle of the fire draws him out of the memory. It won't do to sink into dreaming when he is the one tasked to keep watch. The forest around them may be still and the night calm, but it is no excuse for him to idle. He should wake Dori, at the very least, tell him to take over. Instead, he remains where he is, crouched next to Bilbo, taking in details now that he can do so without interruption.

Dwalin had called the Hobbit gentlefolk, and Bilbo does look the part, fussily dressed and tender-footed. 

He cannot fathom how the Halfling walks with bare feet at all times, over rock and grass. It seems the skin is thick enough to withstand it, but to him, used as he is to heavy boots to shield his toes from both forge-sparks and hammerblows, it is a strange thing indeed. To be so unguarded.

 

He starts momentarily as the Halfling mutters in his sleep, and he sets his hand on the leaf-littered ground for support but does not rise. The night is cold, a brief bite of frost in the air, and he is thankful for his heavy coat with its fur trim. Bilbo sleeps on a bedroll that seems soft enough, but has only his jacket for warmth. 

When he tuts at the foolishness of it, the sound is unexpectedly loud. Bilbo turns his face up, blinking slowly. The firelight illuminates half of his features, the tangled curls and the beardless chin, and lights the slight curl of a smile. It catches him off guard entirely.

"The night is cold," he says, words terser than he intended, and he quickly reaches for the nearest blanket, bundling it up and pushing it at Bilbo. For a moment, it seems his legs will not obey him, but then the paralysis fades and lets him rise to his feet. He stands still for a moment, considering adding some other admonition, but then realizes Bilbo has fallen asleep again, now wrapped in the blanket. The smile on Bilbo's face remains, crooking just a little further.


End file.
